


Stupid Sexy Sticker

by endemictoearth



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: Diary/Journal, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 13:44:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4307340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endemictoearth/pseuds/endemictoearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rae tells her journal about this stupid sexy sticker that got Finn thinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a Tumblr discussion about this sticker in Rae's room. It was stuck at the top of a window frame like she was trying to hide it from her Mum, and I decided to write a little something about it.

Dear Diary, (Why do I still write that? I don’t close each entry with Love, Rae. Stupid habits.)

Anyway, I had to record what happened earlier when Finn was here. We were lying on my bed (Yes! We! lying! bed! on!) Sorry, deep breaths. I just still can’t believe any of this. I’ll start again.

Finn and I were lying on my bed this afternoon, when he spotted that sticker I’d put up in the window frame, behind the curtains, so my mum wouldn’t notice it. Partly because she’d probably go mental that I was putting a sticker straight on the wall instead of using blutac, and partly because it’s a woman in a state of semi-nudity and even though she and Karim go at it all the time, heaven forfend her daughter even THINK about anything like that.

Whatever.

So, like I said, he clocks the sticker and says, “Where’d you get that?”

I just shrugged. I wasn’t sure what he thought of it, so I pretended I couldn’t remember buying it at that music shop in Peterborough. 

He cleared his throat, but he couldn’t have been nervous. Maybe the fags are getting to him. Then he said, “Oh. Well, I’m only asking because I’ve got the same one. It’s on my guitar case.”

Now I’ve only seen his actual guitar. It’s out on a stand in his room. He’s never played it for me. Says he’s rubbish, but I don’t believe that. I can’t believe he’d be rubbish at anything. Well, except maybe in choosing girlfriends. Ha-ha, hollow laughter.

So I just said, “Oh really, that’s weird,” because it is, a little. 

He cleared his throat again and I asked him if he wanted some water.

“No, that’s okay.” He kept looking at the sticker, then back to me. If he wasn’t nervous, he was making ME nervous. So I finally just said, “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” He looks at his hands, and I swear he stuttered a bit on the word. 

“Okay, then.” I don’t think I sounded very convinced, because I wasn’t. Anyway, I thought I should change the subject. “Do you want me to put some music on?” I was kind of surprised at myself that something wasn’t already playing, but Finn had just marched me upstairs and jumped onto my bed, so I joined him. 

“Nah, that’s alright,” he said. “Sometimes I like it when it’s quiet. Just us and nothing … distracting us.”

He gave me this super intense look and I never know what to do when he looks at me like that. So, I just smiled and looked away. Back at that damn sticker. She was mocking me from up there, with her perfect cartoon curves. I was just thinking I should take it down when Finn said, clearing his throat AGAIN, and pausing to trace circles on my arm, “Maybe the next time you come over …” He trailed off. 

I turned back to look at him. “What?” His face looked a little red and I couldn’t figure out what was going on. “And don’t say ‘Nothing.’”

He definitely stuttered now. “I-I just thought, maybe … I’ve got a guitar, and …” He ran his arm awkwardly over the expanse of my side. It took me a minute, but finally it clicked into place what he was getting at.

“What?” I couldn’t help exclaiming. “No way! I’d look like …” Well, I didn’t exactly know what I’d look like, but it wouldn’t be good.

“What would you look like?” Finn said, real quiet now. Oh, shit. Of course, I fucked something else up. But I couldn’t help reacting the way I did.

“Well, for one thing, the guitar would cover about half of one of my thighs. That’s not very sexy!” I laughed, trying to make the tension in the room go away.

“That’s not true.” Finn said, very serious. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

I felt myself getting panicky. But he was so close, I couldn’t have a freak out four inches from his face. He really would run then. So, I tried closing my eyes and breathing deep through my nose and slowly letting the breath out through pursed lips, like they taught us in hospital. Controlled breaths can be calming. I was on my second one when I felt Finn’s lips on mine. I was surprised at first, my eyes flew open for a second, but as his arms pulled me to him, the chatter in my brain stopped. 

When he kisses me, my brain gets quiet. It’s great, but it would be inconvenient for us to be kissing every moment of the day. He finally pulled away, arms still around me. “You’d look amazing, Rae. Way better than some cartoon sticker. And I can promise you, you wouldn’t be behind that guitar for long.”

Now I felt my face get hot. Maybe he was blushing earlier. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to him saying these lovely things to me. I knew it was useless to argue, so I just said, “Oh, really?” When I looked back up at him, he was smiling. “Yes, REALLY.” He kissed me again. 

“Well, maybe …” I drew out the last syllable and Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?!” he practically shouted.

“But only if you play something on it for me first!” I stated my terms. “You’ve got to woo me a little.” I wasn’t going to do that for nothing. 

He grinned and then kissed my neck. “That is the best deal I’ve ever heard of,” he murmured in my ear. “You’re on.”

So now, of course, I’m bricking it. I know we can’t avoid being alone in his room forever, but I’m a woman of my word. Hmmm. Think I’ll keep that sticker up there, anyway. For inspiration.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events from Finn's perspective, and a bit more.

~~Dear Diary~~

~~Just thought I’d try to~~

Okay I’m just going to write this. I know Rae keeps a diary, and I actually get really worried about what she writes in there, mainly about me. About us. But, it seems to help her to have a place to put her thoughts, and I’ve been having so many lately that I thought I’d try it, too.

Anyway, here goes.

Couple of weeks ago, we were in her room, on her bed, and I saw this sticker I’d never noticed before up by her window. I have the same one, and truth be told, I kind of, well since we started going  out, whenever I look at it, I’ve sort of fantasized it was Rae. Like, I know it’s just a sticker, but she has the same dark hair and curves and, well, anyway.

So, I didn’t tell her all that, but I somehow grew a pair of bollocks big enough to tell her that I’d like it if she, you know, did the same thing. With MY guitar. Then she did that thing she always does which drives me crazy and said owt about how she was too fat and it’d only cover … whatever. That’s all bollocks. I mean, I have real guitar, not a ukelele! It really bothers me that she can’t see how beautiful she is. But try telling her anything about it and see where it gets you.

Which is why I was totally floored a minute later when she actually said she’d do it! I mean, I had to shift back a bit at that news, if you know what I mean. Because … fucking hell. Just the thought of it got me well hot under the collar. 

Her only condition was that I had to play her a song on my guitar first. Well, I know a fair few tunes, but none of them seemed right for Rae, you know? 

~~This is so daft. I’m not a diary person.~~

Fuck it.

So, after I looked through all my vinyl, I decided to rummage around my old man’s collection. He’s got plenty of shit, like fucking Status Quo, but some decent stuff, as well. I got a pile of records together and took them up to my room. On my way back upstairs, my dad stopped me and gave me that look, like he thinks I’m up to no good. I didn’t want to tell him what I was doing, but he said they were his albums and he had a right to know what I was doing with them. Fair enough. 

After I explained I wanted to play a song for Rae (not what she would be doing with my guitar when I was done), Dad flips through the stack and pulls out half a dozen albums. “No way any of these are right,” he said. (It’s weird writing what people say in a diary. I only feel like I can do it when I remember exactly what they say.) Then he pulls a record from the bottom of the stack and puts it on top, telling me to start with it. It’s a Bob Dylan one, called  _Slow Train Coming_. 

I’ve been real keyed up since she mentioned it, but trying not to show it. I think Chop was actually worried about me the week after she made the suggestion. I couldn’t concentrate on anything, and if anyone other than Rae asked me a question, forget it. And I kept playing air guitar under the table at the pub, which probably looked like something else.

Fuck.

She just, I don’t know. It’s like, she’s so fun and funny when we’re around the gang, and then she can be so … god, nice isn’t the word. Sweet isn’t right, either. I should have paid attention more in English class, eh? 

Luscious. That’s it. She’s lush. But she gets nervous, so do I. Sometimes it feels like we’re two animals in the same cage, feeling each other out, making sure the other one isn’t going to bite. Well, not in anger, anyway.

And she feels so great. Like, I think she’s gorgeous, but it’s the FEEL of her that I can’t get over, maybe ever. I mean, she soft and smooth, and when we lay next to each other, it just feels like we fit. Like I’ve never fit with any other girl.

God, this is a pile of steaming bullshit. I’m supposed to be writing about what HAPPENED.

SO, my parents NEVER go away for the weekend. I swear the last time they went away without me was when I was ten, and I had to stay on the floor at my auntie’s. And forget about Rae’s mum leaving the country again. Apparently that was a one-off. They didn’t even go on a honeymoon after their wedding.

But my mum found this invitation to my cousin Nicole’s wedding crammed down between the fridge and the cooker, and felt so guilty she hadn’t RSVPed and it was only a week away, that she and my dad volunteered to go down a day early and help out! But that would mean me missing a day and a half of college, and I managed to convince her why I shouldn’t go. I swear she was so upset thinking about what my cousin thought of her, she just said fine. 

End result–my house would be unoccupied for three whole nights. I could hardly wait to tell Rae, but knew I had to play it cool. 

When I did, walking her home from college the next day, she didn’t say anything. Just nodded quietly. I swear she looked scared. I just said I thought she might like to come over, didn’t mention the guitar thing. In fact, I started to think the whole thing was stupid, and if she was going to feel so scared about it, it wasn’t worth it. I wasn’t going to enjoy it if she didn’t, if it made her self-conscious.

And every night, I’ve been practicing the tune, because now I just wanted to play a song for her, whether or not she did anything for me. And this song, it said so many things I wanted to say. I haven’t written yet about how hard college has been on her. On us. I never knew there were so many fucking wankers, tosspots and knobheads at our school. What is their fucking problem with us? Anyway, when I heard this song, it seemed perfect. I’m going to write it out:

[ _I Believe In You_ ](http://vimeo.com/61070918)

_They ask me how I feel_   
_And if my love is real_   
_And how I know I’ll make it through_   
_And they, they look at me and frown_   
_They’d like to drive me from this town_   
_They don’t want me around_   
_‘Cause I believe in you_

_They, they show me to the door_   
_They say don’t come back no more_   
_'Cause I don’t be like they’d like me to_   
_And I walk out on my own_   
_A thousand miles from home_   
_But I don’t feel alone_   
_'Cause I believe in you_

_I believe in you even through the tears and the laughter_   
_I believe in you even though we be apart_   
_I believe in you even on the morning after_   
_Oh, when the dawn is nearing Oh, when the night is disappearing_   
_Oh, this feeling is still here in my heart_

_Don’t let me drift too far_   
_Keep me where you are_   
_Where I will always be renewed_   
_And that which you’ve given me today_   
_Is worth more than I could pay_   
_And no matter what they say_   
_I believe in you_

_I believe in you when winter time turns to summer_   
_I believe in you when white turn to black_   
_I believe in you even though I be outnumbered_   
_Oh, though the earth may shake me_   
_Oh, though my friends forsake me_   
_Oh, even that couldn’t make me go back_

_Don’t let me change my heart_   
_Keep me set apart_   
_From all the plans they do pursue_   
_And I, I don’t mind the pain_   
_Don’t mind the driving rain_   
_I know I will sustain_   
_'Cause I believe in you_

I think my dad thought I’d choose  _Precious Angel_ , but it weren’t what I were looking for. And I could just see her rolling her eyes at being called precious. OR angel.

* * *

Had to take a break, my hand was killing me. I never write this much, not even for essays in class. Think I’ll skip to the bit where I played the song for her.

There she was, sitting on my bed. I mean, she’s sat there before, but it felt different, like she or me or us were full of potential, like we were on a roller coaster at Alton Towers, and had just climbed to the top, but hadn’t started down the hill yet. Fuck, I don’t know if I’m telling any of this right.

But, this part, I remember exactly. Might always remember it, who knows.

After I finished my shitty rendition, I couldn’t look up at her. What if she hadn’t liked it? But then she didn’t say anything at all, and I got worried, so I looked up, and she was crying. 

“Was it that bad?” I said, trying to make a joke.

“Yeah, you were terrible.” She smiled, though, so I knew she were joking back. “I’ve never heard that song before, who is it?”

“Dylan. But I didn’t want to try and sound like him, like his voice, you know? Just wanted to play the song, simple.” 

“Well, it was amazing. I was right, you’re not rubbish at anything.”

“Get away.” I really felt like I’d messed it up, I was so nervous, but since she doesn’t play, maybe she didn’t notice all my mistakes.

She sighed and I looked back up at her. Her hands were in her lap, in little fists. “I can’t—even if I—“ she wasn’t getting her words out. I thought I knew what she was getting at, though.

“Rae, you don’t have to. The fact that you wanted to do it, even for a second, that’s enough for me.”

“But you learned this whole song for me and what do I ever do for you?”

“There’s not a scoreboard, Rae.” I must have put my guitar aside and crossed over to sit by her. I know I did that at some point. “You do plenty for me. Mainly, you’re you.” I can’t tell you how much I wish I was better with words. Because I never seem to say exactly what I mean. But Rae seemed to like that, and she hugged me. I love it when she touches me first. Normally, it seems like she’s holding back, like she doesn’t have the right or something. Little does she know.

I wouldn’t say I’m a gentleman. I just can’t find the words to write what happened next. Let’s just say that I got to see what would have been behind my guitar, and it was a thousand times better than that stupid sticker or my imagination.

I’m going to have to burn this notebook.


End file.
